


Forbidden

by BHC



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha!hannibal, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Beta!Will, F/M, Heats, Hurt/Comfort, Masturbating, Mummification, Murder, Omega!You, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parental Death, Sex Toys, Typical Hannibal tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-31 23:40:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3997564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BHC/pseuds/BHC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the death of your parents, Hannibal, the family friend, takes you in and raises you into a hard working FBI agent. You make it into the Behavioral Science Unit where you meet and work with Will Graham to solve a troubling case. An attraction grows, but so does a danger you were never prepared for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt was given to me by someone here on AO3 (will credit name if person doesn't mind). I'm not going to post what was said until the end, due to spoilers. Actually, I came up with two story ideas from the prompt. This one, which is right from the message, and another I have no clue if I'll be doing. I wanted to get a start on posting this sooner, but I have not been overly motivated these past two months (I have no clue why---I know that time I was sick was no help) and have really struggled to get even what I have done done. So much debating--what do I want to count as a chapter; is this a good flow for the events; does this work; what tests and stuff can you do on a dried up dead body?
> 
> Betas are included in this Omega!verse along with way too much thought into how A/B/O's work socially/biologically. And this is my first A/B/O.
> 
>  **This is still a work in progress and not beta read.** As I write more, I may change or add stuff or catch typos and then I will update accordingly.

He was always just a part of your life. You always just thought of him as Uncle Hannibal and you looked forward to his visits. It was fantastic that he was such a successful and wealthy surgeon. The wealth aloud him to travel and you loved hearing stories of the wonderful places he had visited and the things he'd learn, including recipes that you couldn't wait to try. He'd sometimes bring you gifts too. Sometimes it was candy; other times it would be trinkets. But there was one gift that was your favorite and was really special to you.

It was a necklace he had bought while visiting Spain and had given to you at the young age of five. It was a gold locket, circular in shape and had beautiful flowers engraved on it. You loved it so much and refused to take it off, awake or asleep; in school or at home; in the shower. It even got stuck in your hair once or twice, but you never took it off. Everyone assumed it had a chain made of the strongest metal and had the tightest seal in existence considering what it went through without braking or filling with water. You never did make up your mind on what to put it in.

“Still wearing that I see,” Hannibal would say to you. He'd smile and flick either your nose or the locket itself.

You'd always smiled back and your face would feel warm, “Of course. I never take it off. I love it!” And it was always followed by a hug. After all, it _was_ your favorite gift from your favorite person in the whole world.

Other than the family friend who loved to travel, there was nothing else extraordinary in your childhood. You'd go to school, you'd play with friends, you'd color, you'd be with your family. Just an average family doing average things. That is....until that tragic night when you were seven.

You had kissed Mom and Dad [or Dad/Dad or Mom/Mom—whatever applies] and said your good nights. Mom [Dad] stayed in the room to tuck you in and read you your favorite book (one that Hannibal had given you, of course). Even though you were fully capable of reading it yourself, your Mom always had a marvelous way of telling it and bringing it to life for you. Not only that but you loved her voice. There was a part in the book she would nearly sing and it always put you out like a light. One of these days you'd grow out of it, but for right now, that was not happening....and you'd come to cherish the memory.

She sang the song and you blinked. The next thing you knew you were staring at the clock which glowed a red 1:19 am. You had only been a sleep for a few hours. And it was very unlike you to wake up at such an odd time. You wandered downstairs to get a glass of milk.

The stairs started/stopped, depending on which direction you were going, in the living room. You had your head down the whole way but upon your footing leaving the last step and hitting carpet you looked up and screamed.

Before you, you saw your dad [mom] tied to his [her] chair. His face was skinned, his eyes had been plucked out and sat on the arm facing the TV. Later, much later—somewhere in your teens when you'd done your research, you'd find out that his [her] tongue had been cut out and shoved down your mom's [dad's] throat. Oh, your poor mother [father]. She [he] was on the couch, twitching and in the process of having her [his] face cut as she [he] choked on her husband's tongue. You saw him: the man responsible for the trauma that would ensue. He was dressed all in black: black leather coat, black gloves, and a black ski mask. He was big and tall, which may have been a bit exaggerated out of fear. He had looked up from his dirty work when you screamed. He acted like he was going to approach you.

You panicked and ran through the backdoor and making your way a couple houses down to your friend's house. You beat on the door and screamed, making the dogs in the house bark, which in turn got the attention of the occupants. When the door opened, you grabbed onto the nearest body and frantically explained what you saw as tears flowed down your face. They called 911 for you. At your request they also dialed Hannibal's number and explained the situation. Cops and ambulances arrived and you talked to a couple cops as others busied themselves at the crime scene that was once upon a time your home. You told them everything you could.

There was no telling how much time had passed before Uncle Hannibal arrived. He seemed pretty frazzled when he came through the doorway and caught your eye. You'd never seen him look like that before and it upset you even more. You started to cry again. Then he engulfed you in his arms. There was nothing more comforting than the hug Hannibal gave you. For a brief moment you forgot the reason for your tears.

An officer tapped on Hannibal's shoulder and asked to speak to him in private. He let go. There were no words, he just offered a smile. You always loved his smile. It made his uniquely brown almost maroon colored eyes light up. Like all the happiness in the world was contained in those charming orbs. You smiled back and he wiped a stray tear off your cheek before he met with the cop.

You couldn't hear a word. It was probably for the best anyway. And without Hannibal's comfort you just sat on the couch and stared off into space. The events of the day ran through your head. It was just a normal day with trivial, insignificance events. How....how did it go so wrong? Mom and Dad [or Dad/Dad or Mom/Mom] were all you had. There were no siblings, no aunts and uncles, no cousins, your grandparents had all passed. It was just Mom and Dad [or Dad/Dad or Mom/Mom] ...and Hannibal.

Hannibal nodded to the officer he was talking to and then he returned to you. He sat down next to you.

“[Name],” he spoke calmly. “I'm so sorry about the loss of your parents. I'm sure I know how you feel: sad, terrified, empty, numb....It doesn't seem like it, and at times it'll seem like it'll never happen, but you can get through this. You are not alone [Name], I am here for you and I will help you.” He held onto your hand. “Which brings me to our first step: you'll be living with me now. We will stay at a hotel here for a while until I find a house here in Baltimore.”

You nodded unsure what to say.

An officer handed Hannibal one of your backpacks. You assumed it had your school items and maybe some clothes in it. Then you and Hannibal went to a hotel and he informed you that he would call you off from school for the next day.

In a short amount of time, Hannibal found a house for the two of you. Sadly, it meant you'd have to go to another school. Eventually, boxes marked to you arrived in the mail. They were full of stuff from your previous home. Hannibal helped you go through them and decide what you wanted to keep and what you wanted to get rid of. You asked about the house and the whatever didn't come in a box. He told you it'd all be sold, maybe even given to charity. The statement just seemed to make everything set in stone. Your parents were gone. There was no going back. Your life now was in with Uncle Hannibal.

He never officially adopted you and he had placed you in a private school and encouraged you to reach your full potential in everything you did. You excelled in every extra curricular activity that you tried and graduated valedictorian. He had made sure the world was yours for the taking. As a kid you resented him for it, but when report cards came, you felt blessed and were thankful that he cared so much.

He himself had quit the surgical game. The move and inheritance of a dependent made him rethink the profession and he felt it wouldn't be fair to you. So he became a psychiatrist and made his hours around your school schedule. It not only freed up enough time to take care of and spend time with you, but he was able to fine tune his cooking hobby. You loved watching him turn the grossest looking parts of the animals into delicious and beautiful works of art. He would even have you help and would teach you little tricks and secrets.

Sometimes you'd worry that you had upset him and his schedule too much. There'd be nights were you'd hear him shuffle around and then leave only to come back hours later sometimes breathless. When you questioned him on it he told you not to worry about it and that he had taken a walk or run around the block to get some fresh air. You wanted to believe him but you knew better. No one walks or runs around the block for hours.

During your upbringing, the day came, you must've been about eleven or twelve, when you asked him an inevitable question; the one that most guardians dread answering.....were you an omega, a beta, or an alpha?

He knew it was coming. He could smell it. You were around that age.

“You are an omega, my dear,” he had told you, in a calm, professional tone. “And you are near your first heat. I'm not sure what they have taught you about these things in school.” He chuckled. “Ah, sex and sexuality---I never really understood why it's such a difficult topic to discuss and teach. Any misinformation could lead to confusion and disaster.” A sigh. “But yes, you are nearing your first heat. It'll be difficult. Your hormones will be in a rage and the need to mate will cause you great misery and disarray. The first heat signifies the first ovulation and your menarche—your first menstrual cycle, which won't be long after heat. I cannot allow you to go outside. There are many alphas out there who crave a blossoming omega and you are not ready to be bonded and bred to anyone, let alone a complete stranger.”

School barely touched base on the changes your body would go through, but even the best sex ed/ health courses could never fully prepare you for the truth. Even Hannibal, as knowledgeable as he may have been, was unable to put into words what could happen. The memory involving the appearance of breasts may have been pushed out of your mind, making it just seemed like they just popped up as is one night, but your first heat could never be erased from your memory.

Shortly after the talk you woke up in the middle of the night in agony. You felt tense and warm. No matter how you laid you were unable to get comfortable. On instinct you collected all the blankets and pillows you could find, placed them on your bed, and nestled among them. Finally, you relaxed enough to drift off. The pillow you had buried your face in smelled of Hannibal.

The second day, the sleepless night was clear on your face and you were called off of school for the next two days. All day your genitals felt swollen and damp and there was an uncontrollable urge to be touched in all ways. You felt you were going mad and you just wanted to cry. Hannibal told you it was normal, the first was always the worst and a bit of a shock to your system. He stroked your face to try to comfort you. You enjoyed it....a lot.

That night, again, you were plagued with insomnia. The blankets and pillows offered little comfort and peace this time, but that need to be touched and filled was overbearing. Bored and restless you got out of your nest. Maybe pacing the large house would wear you out. Once through the doorway, you smelled, well, you smelled all the smells. You followed the strongest and most alluring of the scents.

You didn't pay attention to where your feet lead you and you found yourself in Hannibal's bedroom watching him sleep. You were unaware how long you had been standing there, watching the alpha's bare chest rise up with every breath. It was mesmerizing. He was mesmerizing. Did he always look like that? You never noticed before. And earlier, when he touched you...was his skin always that soft? Were his touches always that...that....wonderful? You, oh God, you were craving them. You pondered waking him up. After all, he knew about this more than you, he could help you.

The logic was clear. You needed his help, but instead of a gentle shaking, what you would do under every other circumstance, you kissed him. The warmth of his lips made your heart race, but in a good way. It seemed to lessen up the suffering. You just couldn't pull away from him.

Well, you didn't have to. His eyes flew open and he scooted away from you quickly as he shouted your name. He stared at you in disbelief. You hated that look in his eyes and you began to cry.

“I'm sorry,” you sobbed. “I—I don't know why I did that. I just couldn't sleep and I need help and---and---” You tried to gather your thoughts and continue but the words were lost in the tears and gasps.

His expression changed into caring. “Shh---it's ok. I understand. Shhh.” His hand touched your cheek and wiped away the tears.

He walked you back to the nest that was once a bed and helped you settle.

“You do understand that I need to lock your door now,” he said once you were snuggled.

Part of you understood, but most of you (the part that was in heat) did not. You nodded regardless.

“You can't be wondering around. You are a slave to your hormones right now. If I was any more of a deep sleeper—-” He aloud that thought to trail off. “We can't risk you going outside. I'm sorry.” He kissed your forehead and walked away. Tears ran down your face as you heard a lock latch.

Yes, as atrocious as it sounded and felt, that lock was on there for your protection. Not only from yourself and the possible venturing outside the house, but it was also put there to keep the alpha that lived in the house from you. You were completely unaware that your heat was having an effect on your protector and it was driving him insane with lust.

Hannibal locked his doors as well in fear of falling victim to his instincts. That night when you kissed him could've taken a turn for the worse if he were any other alpha with no control. He did his best to keep composure, but the young soft lips and the smell of first heat was something very hard to resist. And he ached just as much as you did. For the first time in a long while, he felt the strong craving for release.

As he laid down on his bed, unable to fall asleep, he pulled off his pants and underwear, without thinking, and quickly and roughly pumped his erection with his hand. The pace was enough to make him cum within a short amount of time. He bit down on a pillow, tearing a hole in it, as he sprayed hot streams on himself. A hand was no mate, but it was enough to calm him back down. He cleaned up the best he could with tissues, not wanting to risk the potential of uncontrolled arousal on the way to the bathroom.

The third and final day, your skin crawled with anticipation; partly from your body thinking it would find a mate and a bond would be made and partly, and you hoped mostly, it would all be over for awhile.

“It should be much easier next time, now that you are aware of the feelings and how your body reacts to the shift. And this will help.” He said to himself as much as to you. Then he handed you a black bag.

You looked in the bag. Your gift was a flesh colored dildo, a little on the small side with no knot to keep you from hurting yourself. In some parallel universe it'd be wrong or even horrific to give someone so young such a gift, but in this reality it was pretty normal (with the exception of some people with prude or old fashioned beliefs). Regardless, it wasn't talked about in school and you looked at your guardian in a slight confusion.

“It won't be the same, but it will help.” He smiled at you and then explained what you do.

That's exactly what you did that night when you were locked in your room, unable to sleep, and the need was too great.

 

Before you knew it you were twenty eight years old, reflecting on all that had happened to you in what seemed like such a short of amount of time. You stood in front of your mirror getting ready for your first day working at the Behavioral Science Unit for the FBI. You had decided that it was the perfect career your freshmen year of high school. You sometimes though that it'd give you a chance to avenge your parents. But it was only a thought. Hannibal supported you the whole way, which included you continuing to live with him to save money and ensuring focus on your studies (the way your friends complained about how they found it difficult to balance their time or work around roommates, you were once again thankful for what others may have seen as control). And of course, he helped you learn all you everything you needed to know. It only seemed more perfect when he became a consultant for the FBI. You impressed the hell out of Jack Crawford, the head of the BSU, all the times he had visited the house and he even helped you get the job.

Pleased by how the tank top and blouse combo and the nice new pair of black jeans looked, not without a chuckle at your reflection for the most professional you'd ever looked, you left your room. You put your hair up in a bun as you walked down the stairs. Before putting your boots on and leaving, you had to stop by the kitchen to let the doctor know you were headed out.

He was busy finishing up breakfast as you walked in. You instantly became mesmerized by the enticing smells that filled the room. You knocked on the doorway to get his attention.

“I'm heading out,” you told him as he looked up.

He almost seemed insulted. “Without eating first?”

“I wanted to go in early and get to know my new surroundings.” You were so excited you didn't even think about food.

“You have plenty of time. There is no sense in going to your first day on the job on an empty stomach. Sit.” He lectured through a big smile as he pointed towards the dining room.

“Fine.”

He brought out raspberry pancakes, his famous protein scramble (loaded up with bacon and sausage, just how you loved it), and the special espresso he'd make just for you. It appeared that he cooked your favorite breakfast as a celebration for your new career; couldn't ask for a better start.

He looked you over as he dished out the food.

“You look very nice. Although, I must voice concern over the choice of jeans,” he knit-picked.

You were prepared for that. He believed jeans were nothing but causal wear; same class as pajamas even. Jeans, regardless of color or style or condition, were not to be worn anywhere that required class, finesse, or professionalism. Of course if he had his way, you'd be in nothing but dresses, blouses, skirts, slacks and the like, which he tried as you grew up with him, but he realized you had a bit of a stubborn and free spirit that he just couldn't kill.

“The dress code is the same as it's always been,” you argued. “I can dress as I like as long as I don't look dumpy and represent the FBI in a dignified way. I even asked Jack and he said it's fine. That agents wear jeans all the time, especially if they're out in the field, getting dirty.”

There was a sigh of defeat to which you giggled.

“I don't know why you and everybody has that attitude toward jeans. For fuc---for crying out loud, it's not like they're cheap.” Whew you almost let the unholy swear word slip out.

You weren't aloud to cuss in front of Hannibal, even as an adult. He felt that kind of talk was lazy and uncalled for. He was a little more forgiving with 'hell' and 'damn', even 'ass' and 'shit' could slip past, but never 'fuck'. Sure he'd occasionally say it, but he'd only let such words fly when he was really, _really_ mad.

He responded with a 'hmph'.

You finished eating and took your dishes to the kitchen. Hannibal abandoned his for a moment to walk you out.

“Do you have your keys?” He asked on the way to the door.

“Yes.” You grabbed your boots.

“Do remember which part of the building to go to?”

“Yes.” You put on a boot.

“Do you have all your credentials?”

“Yes.” You put on your other boot. You stood up and turned to him. “I have everything. Please stop babying me.”

He looked down for a split second slightly defeated. Then he placed his hands on your shoulders.

“Are you going to catch the criminal?” He smiled.

You smiled back. “You bet I am.”

He flicked your necklace. “Good luck today. I love you.” He gave you a quick peck.

The feeling of blessed came over you again. “I'll do my best.” You turned to open the door. With your hand on the knob, you looked over your shoulder back at him. “I love you, too.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On your first day under Jack's authority you are instantly assigned to a case and meet someone knew. And you get along nicely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry these are pretty short chapters after such long breaks, but like I've said, my motivation is bleh right now and I think part of it is dialog and the other part is over thinking about forensic details. *shoulder shrug* It's not so bad I guess, I've started writing the ending even though the rest isn't done. Figured it'd help in the lack of motivation thing, since I pretty much know how I want things to play out there. Now just got to work up to it. So no estimated time for posting is set. Once I'm done, I may rechapter it so it's a bit more organised like Dulces and Journey to the past---There'll be a note added when that happens

You walked through the FBI building to find Jack and get your first assignment. You figured he'd have you do basic things for awhile to help you get used to where you were. Go get this file; go talk to this person in this part of the building; do a little research on this; that kind of thing.

You knocked on the door.

“Come in.” You heard the familiar deep voice command.

You walked in.

“Ah! [Name], right on time for the first day, I see. How are you?”

Your cheeks grew warm. “I am eager to get started. Thank you so much for helping me become a part of the team.”

“Well, between your transcript and what I've heard and learned from Hannibal, it'd be some kind of crime to turn you down. Welcome aboard.” His smile faded. “I hope you weren't prepared for an easy first day. We have a case that we need all the help we can get.”

You nodded and followed him to investigation room. The bulletin board was already covered with pictures and notes. The table was covered with manila folders, notebooks, pens and pencils. Sitting at the table was a man nose deep in a folder.

“Oi, this looks fun,” you groaned as you stepped into the room.

The man looked up as you and Jack came in. You were taken aback some by his appearance. Like you, he wasn't overdressed; it was nice, but comfortable. Behind his glasses were friendly, but tired blue eyes. He was scruffy and had short, brown, curly hair that complimented his angelic face. He was a looker.

“[First], this is Will Graham,” Jack began as the man stood up. “He's one of my consultants. And one of the best. He can think of the killer like no one else can.”

Will's face reddened and brought up a half smile as he nodded. It made his curls bounce a little (it was cute). He held out his hand, which you took as Jack continued, giving you your turn to be flattered.

“Will, this is, [First/Last name]. Our new recruit. Graduated top of her class and has been a loyal FBI agent for a while now. I figured we could use more people like her around here. Especially, with this case.”

You walked up to the board. “Ok. What's so big with this case?”

“Mummies. Seven of them,” you heard Jack say as you focused on one photo of a dried up corpse after another.

“Mummies?” One picture caught your attention. “Hmmm....Did you get a good look at the bodies?”

“Not yet. I got a glimpse of them at the scene, but I wasn't able to be thorough. Lab has them right now for testing,” Jack explained, then asked, “why?”

“Well, last I thought we were in Virginia, not ancient Eygpt.”

“What makes you say Egyptian?” Will inquired; tone slightly on the judgmental side. “There are other cultures that practice mummification and ---”

You reached for a magnifying glass you happen to see buried among all the mess.

“If this looks like what I think it is...” You held the glass up. “Ah, ha...thought so.”

You scanned the other pics with the glass. What you were looking at showed well on some, but not so much on others.

Now Jack questioned you “What is it?”

“Did you notice the symbols on the bodies?”

Jack approached and squinted at the photo. In all fairness, it was pretty small; most people would just assume it a splotch or a insignificant tattoo. Even in person, one might not think anything about it. But Hannibal had helped you train your eyes to be a little better about detail. And it had to be significant if all the victims had them.

You handed Jack the glass and watched him try to focus.

“That's a Sa on the right. On the left, it looks like it might be an Ankh. Both are Egyptian symbols. Sa being for protection and Ankh about eternal life.”

Will shrugged. “That does fit with the other notes about these bodies.”

You looked at a note beside one of the pictures.

You read out load, “Brain, lungs, liver, intestines, stomach'. That's what's missing, yes?”

Jack lowered the glass. “Yep. The thought of possible cannibal, maybe even the same bastard we've been after has come up...”

“The Chesapeake Ripper?”

“But that's only if he's not being completely loyal to the mummification process.” Will found some lab reports and other notes. “I find it hard to believe that he'd be true to everything else: bandages, salt, take the time to dry them out. And why leave the heart, an organ that's usually cannibalized? There were even marks left in the nose from how the brain was removed.”

“Yeah, that doesn't fit the Ripper. An ancient Egypt enthusiast sounds pretty accurate.” Looks like certain studies were paying off. “Where did you find the bodies?”

“In a storage unit. An unrented storage unit that someone broke into. The person who runs it went to finally rent it out and discovered that the lock wasn't the one he originally had on there. He broke into it and discovered the bodies. There was no identification anywhere with the bodies—no driver's licenses, library cards, not even any clothes or jewelry, but the gang in the lab are working on ID'ing the victims. And running every test they can to give us more insight.

“In the mean time, I need you two to go over all this. Give me some kind of a profile of our mummy maker. I'm going to go talk to lab, see if they have anything new for us yet.”

You sat down across from Will. “Yes, sir. Costello and I are on it.”

Jack rolled his eyes as he walked away. You tried to be funny, but your humor was never appreciated. You were used to it with Hannibal; guess you'd have to learn that same lesson with these guys. You sighed as you opened up the first file that held more photos and notes.

“You really thought this was the best time for an Abbot and Costello reference?” Will, what was that, almost chuckled?

Well, at least someone found something to somewhat giggle over.

“Just trying to take some of the gruesome out the room. Might drive someone crazy if we can't remind ourselves that world isn't always this gory. Besides...mummies, two people left to deal with them. Totes called for it.” You looked down at the photo in the folder. “Sorry, no offense to you, mummy number five.”

Will actually smiled at you.

“How long have you been working with Jack?”

And the smile left. “We're supposed to be looking for evidence.”

“I'm sorry.” You were hurt a little. “I just wanted to avoid an awkward silence. I'm not a big fan of things going quiet.”

The silence you dreaded came, but only for a minute or three.

“Not long,” Will answered, not lifting his gaze from what he was reading. “I consulted before, but had to stop. It wasn't long ago before Jack approached me about getting back into it.”

“Oh.” You looked up at him. “Why did you stop before?”

He peered at you over his glasses. “I'm not overly comfortable talking about that right now.”

FBI was your life long dream, you couldn't understand the feeling of wanting to back out of it, and you never considered others would feel that way. “Oh...oh, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to pry. I--”

“It's ok.” He raised his hand a little in an attempt to keep you from being upset.

As you focused back on the paperwork, you took a deep breath. And you noticed that there was a very likeable smell. It was similar to Hannibal, but definitely different-- weaker was one way to describe the comparison. It seemed you were sitting with a beta.

 

Lunch break came and you and Will, in an unwanted silence, were unable to figure out anything else based on the pictures and paperwork that you had at hand. The realization hit you that you neglected to bring anything with you for lunch. Oh, well, at least there was the wonderful little cafe just down the block. You made your way to your locker to grab your purse, or at the very least your wallet. You almost ran right into Will as you left the locker area. It startled him and he put his hands up to brace for impact.

“Oh---God,” you exclaimed. “I'm so sorry.”

As instinct, his hands cradled your arms. “It's alright.”

He turned to walk away and you noticed the saddened posture.

“Hey, Will.”

He turned to face you and you took a couple steps closer to him.

“Do you have lunch plans? I was thinking of going to the cafe down the street and I'd hate to eat alone. Would you mind joining me?”

He stood dumbstruck, thinking over the invite.

Finally, he said. “Why?”

You couldn't really prepare yourself for that kind of response. “I---I just thought it wouldn't hurt for us to get to know each other just a little bit. I like to try and make new friends whenever possible. Or, hell, if you wanted we could solely talk about the case the entire time. Maybe one of us could have an epiphany. I'll even pay.”

You could see him thinking again and you felt a little embarrassed to have put him in that situation.

He took a deep breath and you were relieved to see him smile.

“Ok. Why not?” he replied.

You walked down to the cafe with him and ordered soup and a small sandwich. He dined on a bigger sub and had chips on the side. Both of you had coffee. At first, conversation was forced and about the mummies, but somehow it transitioned and the right words sparked actual conversations. And the more you talked the more he loosened up and smiled. You talked about hobbies. You learned that Will loved to fish and in exchange you told him about your painting and various other hobbies you enjoyed. Then you talked about animals and learned that Will had a bunch of dogs, while you told him that you always wanted a pet. The topics became so causal he asked about the necklace. He asked if a boyfriend had given it to you.

“No,” you stated. “It's a gift from my, well, he was a family friend who ended up taking me in as a little girl and raised me into the woman sitting in front of you today.”

“Oh. How sweet.”

“Yeah. He's all I got really. All I've had since---well, it's a long, personal story. I'm not sure I'm ready to tell yet. I don't know why I even said that.” You were ready to smack your forehead for that.

“Ok. Um, if and when you tell me, I'll listen. Whatever it was must have been traumatic. I know talking things out can help. Believe me. I've had a few demons to fight.”

“True. I hope we get close enough to where I feel comfortable to tell you.”

He took off his glasses to wipe a smudge off, at the same time he found your eyes.

“I kind of hope so too.” He said through a smile.

 

“[Name], could you come help me in the kitchen?” You heard Hannibal shout.

“Yeah, just a sec,” you shouted back.

You made your way from the dining room where you sat with your notebook and pencil, thinking over the mummy case while staring at the intriguing swan painting over the fireplace. After lunch you and Will were still unable to figure out anything helpful. It was bothering you something fierce. But at least the two of you were able to talk now that he felt his barrier could be down around you.

“Make myself useful, huh?” you joked as you entered.

He shot you a look. “This dish will be ready sooner if I have someone cut the vegetables while I prepare the meat.”

You made your way to the little table in the room. You picked up the knife and began to chop the produce in front of you.

“It's also nice to have someone out here to have conversations with,” he added. You noted the tiny pitiful sounding tone to his voice.

You sighed. “Yeah.”

“Is something bothering you?”

“Just this case. I thought I'd be able to give more input than I actually gave.”

“From everything you've told me, you didn't have a lot of information to work with, just yet. Maybe, there will be more insight once lab reports start coming in.”

“Still. I don't want to disappoint Jack, or you. You guys have so much faith and confidence in me, I'd hate to not live up to that potential.”

He looked over at you, giving you a comforting, loving expression. “Don't be too hard on yourself. Not every case can be solved. Just be proud you were able to help as much as you possibly could. If you do that, then I will never be disappointed in you.”

You felt better some. He was right. There was only so much you could do and as long as you gave your all, you did not fail and you were useful.

“Thank you.” You sliced another veggie as you smiled. “At least I was able to make a new friend today.”

“That's always a plus.”

Hannibal left the meat he was cutting and arranging in the pan to walk over to you and gather what you had cut.

You smiled and caught his eye as he scooped what was loose into a bowl. “His name is Will Graham.”

“I know Will. He's smart and a good consultant. The two of you working together should be an unstoppable force. Jack's probably thrilled.”

“We'll have to wait and see,” you laughed. “I really like him. We had lunch together. He told me all about his love of fishing and his dogs, among other stuff. It helped greatly when we back to work.” You sighed. “He's so sweet.”

Hannibal shot you a look and his tone changed, but you failed to notice. “Good. The more comfortable you are with each other the better you could work together.”

“[First/last name] and Will Graham: The BSU's secret weapons.” You chuckled. “I really like the idea of that.”

That's when you felt the atmosphere in the room change. It wasn't a drastic change. You couldn't quite give the feeling a name, but it was a negative aura. Then there was the look on Hannibal's face. It was enough to confirm, it was probably a good idea to change the topic.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More mummy investigating, more time with Will, and plans are made to make things a little more causal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> During the writing of this part I began to question what I had gotten myself into

The next day, you arrived at HQ and made your way to store your things. Upon reaching your locker, you were greeted by a note from Jack asking you to meet him with the lab techs. He and Will were already waiting for you down there.

You walked through the door. Right away Jack introduced you: “[First name], this is Brian Zeller, Steven Price, and Beverly Katz. Folks, this is [First and Last name] our newest member of the team.”

The four of you exchanged handshakes and quick greetings.

“All right. Anything new?” You asked.

Jack faced you. “We're still waiting on DNA and/or dental results, but they were able to gather some facts.”

“Like?”

Price answered, “Well, first of all, ages varied. Bone structures show thirties to eighty years old. Other tests we've run show they were all sick with different aliments.”

“Did they die from those ailments or was it something else?”

Zeller took the question. “A couple showed poisoning along with the sickness.”

“The drying process has made things a little difficult,” Beverly added. “It's sped up decomp quite a bit. We can't even determine any times of death right now.”

“We did find something interesting. Well, besides poison.” Price held up a slide. “There was sand in the nooks and crannies of the bodies. Closer look and comparison, showed it's from nowhere in particular. It's playground grade; the stuff you can run to Lowe's and get.”

“Dry them out faster,” Will assessed. “Sand traps the heat.”

“Do you think it's some kind of cult? That these people came together and trusted their deaths and eternal lives to somebody or even multiple people?” Jack offered.

You and Will looked at each other considering the idea.

“It's a thought,” he said, mostly to you.

You shrugged, your focus shifting back to the notes and pictures you had stared at for nearly twenty-four hours. “I'm not sure. It's just not screaming cult activity to me. Who plans to have their tomb, their final resting place, as a lonely, unnoticeable storage unit? If you're going to plan for a full on royal treatment—go all out. Get something flashy and tell your loved ones; go into the great beyond with some personal belongings, or at least clothes. Something a little more elegant.

“No, I feel this is someone working of their own accord.”

Will took a deep breath. “May we should see the bodies.”

You were led to the morgue. There were seven sheet covered bodies on seven tables waiting to be poked and prodded. There was an unfamiliar but rememberable smell, adding to the eerie atmosphere. As you put on gloves, Beverly uncovered the nearest body.

“I'm assuming the tattoos were added after drying,” you noted right away. “The ink seems very vibrant and unaffected by the process.”

“Actually, they're not tattoos,” she explained reaching for a magnifying glass. “If you look closer, you can see it's really marker. My guess, a fine point permanent marker.”

You took that closer look and saw what she was talking about. The dried skin would have reacted different if it was a tattoo tool or if it was done with pin pricks or other amateur ways.

“Work with what you got, I suppose.”

Eventually, you and Will were left with the bodies while Jack went with the team to go over what tests they were able to do and what results had already come through. Each of you took a side of the room to avoid getting in each others way. You prayed something damning would jump out at you as you meticulously looked over every inch. By body number three, however many hours later, there was nothing new.

You sighed angrily. “Have you found _anything_?”

“Nothing we already don't know.” He sounded just as frustrated as you.

You both walked to the final body. You pulled off the sheet and you looked over the victim together, taking your time and not missing any spots, being more meticulous over this one than the rest.

“Nothing!” You placed your magnifying glass down. “All I see is your typical mummy. And sand. Like this should be in a museum, _not_ in an FBI morgue.” You sighed. “Appropriate organs are gone or left, they're dried out---”

“They're bandaged pretty poorly. Other than that, they followed the process pretty well. The killer, or at least whoever did they mummifying, took care and respected the bodies and beliefs.”

You took off your gloves. There was an urge to kick the trashcan you threw them away in, but you resisted. You leaned up against the drawers and covered your face in your hands. Sometimes, closing your eyes, taking deep breaths, and just let your mind process your problems helped, but not with this. You could even hear Hannibal in your head, reflections of him giving you advice, but this was just too much. Your mind was blank.

Will covered the last body back up. You heard his footsteps come your way. Then you felt a gentle, comforting hand on your shoulder and his beta smell, which seemed to be a little stronger than yesterday, engulfed you. You seemed to really rub off on him and since your omega nose was able to pick up his scent so easy, it was possible you were compatible. But this was not the time for that kind of thinking. This was about crime solving and comfort.

You dropped your hands from your face and looked at him. Now, Will was never one for eye contact. It just made him so uneasy. You were lucky he was able to do it once, but he met your line of sight, again. And those beautiful blue eyes were full of compassion, making the situation a little less stressful.

“How about we take a break? I'll buy us lunch this time,” he offered.

You smiled. “Sounds like heaven.”

 

After telling Jack that you were headed out for a break, Will took you to a restaurant he enjoyed. You ordered your food and drink and as you waited you kept trying to pull up something helpful in regards to the mummies a few blocks away. But, still, nothing was coming to you. And you couldn't think of anything else.

Will was the one to break the silence and remind you where you were and that you were not alone. “The more you try to force an answer, the less likely one will come to you.”

“True. But I hate being stumped. I hate being defeated even more.”

“Not every murder can be solved in two days. We just don't have that amount of evidence.”

“Wow. That's exactly what my guardian said.” You shook your head. “Yeah. I know. I thought I'd be more help.”

“C'mon. You're going to end up putting more stress on your mind and you'll never be able to think clear.”

You were unable to think of another topic to discuss. You really tried, but your mind couldn't focus. Every subject somehow turned back to the mummies. Leaving Will to save you from yourself.

“So, um, have you seen any good TV shows or movies or anything recently?” he sadly attempted.

You blinked a couple times. “Well, I've been able to catch a few episodes of this show, Bob's Burgers, online. I think the last movie I watched was something Disney related a while back. I don't really watch TV. And when I do it has to be online.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I have to be careful that I don't get caught watching that stuff.”

Will laughed out of disbelief as a 'what' slipped through.

“Well, my guardian feels that shows like Bob's Burgers and a lot of modern TV and cinema is junk. That it's not really stimulating. He admits it can be fun and a nice distraction now and again, not unlike junk food, but he really doesn't care for it and worries that it would rot my brain or interfere with my studies and more cultured hobbies.”

“Oh. You still live with him?”

You nodded. “It did save me money during college. After that, I looked for my own place off and on, but I haven't found anything yet. Then I'd get distracted by work or something--- So, I'm stuck where I'm at and as long as I live in his house, regardless of my age, I do have to respect his rules.

“What about you? Do you have any junk entertainment that you enjoy?”

“My life is already drama show ready. I really don't need to watch any of the scripted stuff to get that kind of fulfillment or amusement,” he chuckled.

“Why watch it when you live it, right?” You laughed together.

It had looked like Will had achieved the impossible. He got your mind off of the case. He had even gotten you laughing. You continued talking and joking as you ate. It was a nice feeling. You let it get the best of you though.

“So are you busy after work?”

You both froze and then glanced at each other. You really didn't mean for it to come out as some kind of date invitation. It was too soon for something like that. He reacted awkwardly enough with just a simple lunch invite, you didn't want to distress him further.

“I only meant that we could meet up somewhere and...and....maybe, just----”

He grinned. “You'd like a break from work _and_ home?” It sounded a little bad when he put it like that. “I understand. Unless something else comes up, I'm free. Well, until 7:30 anyway.”

“Ok, cool. Let's say we meet up at the bistro on 35th street at five? Does that work for you?”

“Works for me.”

You exchanged smiles, and you noted how lovely his face truly was. You began to feel that it was such a tragedy that he spent most of the time unhappy, keeping those pretty blues unlighted. Suddenly, you questioned why you were being so unprofessional in regards to him. Sure, there's nothing wrong with liking or being slightly attracted, but this was more. Then it hit you were due to go into heat soon; that explains it.

You spaced off a little and was not prepared for the chime rang out from Will's side of the table. He pulled out his cellphone and looked at the screen.

“It's Jack,” he told you. You watched his eyes move as they read the text. “He wants me to take a break from the mummies and work on something else.”

Then your phone went off. Jack had also texted you saying that he needed to talk to you.

Will paid the bill and you returned to HQ and met Jack like you were both asked to. He gave you instructions to do research, whether it involved anything mummy related, any missing people and what patterns they could hold, even if there were any mummy obsessed escaped lunatics—whatever, just some research that could possibly help at all. In the meantime, Will was to go with him to another scene.

As Jack led Will at you quickly and muttered, “Good luck and see ya at five.”

He nodded and patted your arm as he turned and left.

 

Hours, and many books, newspapers, and websites, later, you were back at home ready to forget the case, even for just five minutes at least, and busied yourself with getting ready for dinner with Will. You showered and dressed in a charming outfit; one that kept you covered but was still able to grab some wanted attention. You looked at yourself in your dresser mirror. Inadvertently, your eyes drifted to the little bottle of omega scent hiding perfume you kept on hand for a good number of reasons. Really, it wouldn't be fair to Will's nose to tease him, even if betas weren't as aggressive or had as strong a sense of smell. This wasn't supposed to be any kind of mate attracting date or anything. You didn't stall in giving yourself a few spritzes.

You made your way to tell Hannibal that you were leaving and would not be joining him for dinner. He'd probably be mad that you didn't call him or send a text earlier, but the situation was as it was. Thinking every scenario of how pissed he might be distracted you to where you to almost literally bumped into him on the stairs.

“Oh, [name],” he chuckled, surprised just as you were. “I'm glad I ran into, so to speak. I wanted to know if—if--” He started sniffing the air, which then transitioned to scanning what you were wearing. “What are you up to?”

“I have--,” you began to explain but the paternal questioning continued.

“You're wearing an outfit you only save for special occasions and a perfume to hide behind.”

“Yes, Hannibal, because---”

“And you're wearing makeup. You rarely wear make up.”

“Hannibal!”

His rapid fire concerns ceased. He shift slightly; just enough bringing out a demanding posture. The one you hated growing up. But at least this time you had done nothing wrong and was not expecting punishment. Nonetheless, it still struck fear in you, just shaking your confidence enough to where you needed to gather it up again.

Deep breath: “Hannibal, I was just coming down to tell you that I have plans tonight.” You looked up at him. He still had that same expression written on his face. “I know it's short notice, but I didn't get a chance to alert you before now.”

He shifted again, somehow making the already authority filled and intimidating stance even worse. “Where are you going?”

“Oh, God---”

“Who are you going to be with?”

“Hannibal---”

“Where are you going and when can I expect you back?”

“Why?” You started to walk down the stairs. “Why must we go through this every time I have some kind of outing? It seemed to be worse when you knew it was an actual date. I'm not a child. You don't need to treat me like this anymore.”

“Yes I do.” You heard a very raged filled tone to those three words, or at least you swore you did. But the expression that accompanied made you doubt it; it was compassionate and hurt-filled. “I worry about you. I want to make sure that you safe. I don't want anything like what happened to---to your----”

You lowered your head, ashamed that you had snapped at him. It's not like it would hurt anything or even kill you to tell him what he wanted to know. “I'm meeting Will at that little bistro I love on 35th street. It's not a date or anything. I just thought it could do us some good to get away from mummies.”

“Alright,” he said, walking down the stairs. He placed his hands on your arms. “That's all I wanted to know.”

He placed a lingering kiss to your forehead. Your heart filled with warmth at the thought of not only making him content, but from knowing that there was someone and possibly no one else who could ever care for you as much as Uncle Hannibal.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner with Will, an appointment with Hannibal, and an evening by yourself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no clue if there really is such a restaurant in Balitmore. And if you think about it, Hannibal maybe getting tired of the mummy talk. I mean he gets it from whatever news sources he reads, he gets it from Will, from Jack, and from You. "Mummies? Yes, I'm aware". Then other note: Will discusses things that he would've talked to Jack about before Reader is brought in.

The bistro on 35th had a proper dining name but everyone just called it 'the bistro on 35th street'. It was a charming, light colored brick building with a flag-like sign hanging above and off to the right of the door. It had big windows in the front allowing you to see the elegant décor along with the couples that were seated at the tables. Like any restaurant, the best part was the smells.

Will was already waiting for you inside. He quickly ran his eyes over you. A small smile appeared as he walked to your side.

“You look lovely,” he told you. “Do you always dress like this outside the office?”

Mischievously, you answered, “Occasionally.”

One of the hosts asked “two” and after a nod, led you to a table. Will held out the chair for you and ordered a couple glasses of white wine.

“So, occasionally?” he continued. “As in special occasions?”

“Yes.” You were starting to get nervous. “Is that an issue?”

He shook his head. “You considered me a 'special occasion'?”

“Why not? I don't mind spending time with you and it's not like I get to go out often. I'm usually way too into my work and hobbies. I forget to socialize.”

“Socializing _is_ a bit overrated. Seen enough cases where socializing went horribly wrong. Really, you're not missing anything.”

“You have a habit of taking work home with you, don't you?”

He sipped his wine before answering. “It's part of my talent.”

That sweet face across from you saddened in an expression not unlike one of the dogs he loved so much. It bothered you greatly. In just a short amount of time you saw he was a sweet person and you wanted nothing more in this moment than to find a way to take that sadness out of his eyes. Of course, that sadness wouldn't be lifted if you continued to talk about your gruesome assignment.

The waiter came to take your order, which gave you a little time to consider what you wanted to change the subject to.

Once the waiter left, you cleared your throat. “So, have you any good fishing stories?”

He contorted his face in confusion, but only for a second. “Well, I haven't caught any record breakers, but the other day I caught about five good sized ones. I gutted them, cooked one for supper, then froze the rest for some other days. I may need to break my traditions and look up some other ways to cook 'em. I'm starting to get bored.”

“I may not know anything on how to catch them, but I know a few tricks when it comes to cooking,” you offered. “I might be able to help.”

“Are you offering to teach me or cook for me?”

“Actually, either way's good.” The smile you gave was a little more ornery than you meant it to be.

His eyes brightened. “If you want, I can teach you how to fish in exchange for how to cook them.”

“That sounds fun.”

“Really? Mud, fish, sweat, bugs...that sounds fun to you?” he laughed.

“Of course. I'm surrounded by order and cleanliness all the time. A little dirt would be a breath of fresh air.”

The conversations continued during and a while after your meal. It wasn't long before both of you seemed to forget the FBI and the bandaged bodies that desperately needed your help. As you talked with Will, you began to stop lying to yourself. You liked him; really _liked_ him.

Ok, maybe at first you really didn't mean for it to be a date that meant anything, but that may have been you trying to do the 'right thing'. You were taught that 'love at first sight' wasn't really a thing; that it was just a label used for someone you find attractive enough to want to mate with. It was all about the aesthetic and a clouded mind that could cause you to rush into things without fully realizing the danger. That it wasn't the same as falling in love with someone whose personality complimented yours. 'Love at first sight' could only spell trouble and heartbreak. You may have been misled about it and you couldn't fully blame your heat on how you felt about him.

At about a quarter to seven, Will announced he needed to head out. You grabbed the check and you and him walked up to the register. You fished for your wallet out of your purse but he stopped you.

“I'll take care of this,” he said softly.

“Are you sure? I _am_ the one who invited _you_ out.”

“Of course.”

You looked at him lovingly as the cashier took care of the bill. “Thank you.”

“Thank _you_ for initiating this. This was nice. It has been quite a while since I've been out with anyone.”

He walked with you to your car. You pushed the button on your fob to unlock it. Surprisingly, he held open the door for you.

“This really was fun,” you confessed. “I hope we can do something like this again.”

“I actually wouldn't mind that. I'll have to get back to you with a date and time.”

“Cool.” You stood looking at him debating on whether to follow your instinct or not. You didn't want to push your luck. “I---I really want to do something, but I don't know if you'll go for it.”

He chuckled. “I think I know what it is.” Then he nodded his head.

You took a step closer, took a decent breath, and then kissed his cheek. His stubble tickled your lips. You slowly pulled back, meeting his eyes. The eye contact lasted for a couple seconds and you both grinned.

“Goodnight,” you breathed.

“Goodnight, [Name],” he replied back.

You got in your car and watched Will walk to his. You happened to take note of the way he walked and the way he looked while doing it. Once you came back to your senses you started your car and drove home.

 

Will parked his car and walked towards the building he was scheduled to regularly visit. He had mixed feelings every appointment. He knew he needed the help to make sure he wasn't eaten by his work and abilities, but he wasn't overly comfortable opening up. However, it seemed the more appointments he went to, the better he got with using this important tool. His doctor bringing him a home cooked breakfast shortly after meeting probably sparked something he never intended to ignite. It could also be that Doctor Lecter was incredibly charming and one, if not _the_ , best in the field.

“Good evening, Will,” Hannibal greeted as per the usual.

“Doctor Lecter.” Will himself chimed and nodded.

Will took his usual seat in the chair facing towards the door. Hannibal took its mate across from him. Both men crossed their legs and Hannibal's fingers interlocked.

“Tell me, Will, any lingering ghosts around you this week?”

Will sighed. “I'm sure you've read that mummies have been found. They've caused their share of gruesome nightmares and visions, but really nothing I get lost in.

“Whoever is behind it, feels a deep connection to either Anubis or ancient Egypt. They're pretty respectful to the process. Other than that--” He shrugged. “There's nothing more useful I can give Jack. At least not until a fresher body shows up or there's a match somewhere. Even the new girl is frustrated.”

“Is there really anything more to find? Is your killer even really a killer or are they just trying to ensure a proper afterlife?”

“Both. Some of the people were sick and died from their illness; others had help slipping into the great beyond.”

Hannibal shifted slightly. “Poisoning. It's the least messy.

“Have you discovered how the killer chooses who is worthy of this process?”

“We haven't deciphered that yet. All the ages, races, illnesses, heights, weights, all of it is sporadic. The only constant is death.”

A silence fell in the room as Hannibal waited for Will to determine what subject will fill up the rest of the hour. Will sat as the memory from his detecting visions shifted towards a fantasy of himself in sarcophagus, his expertly placed bandages falling off of his body. Peering at him were the God, Anubus, and the Goddess Ma'at. Straight ahead observing him was the God Osiris.

The images faded away when somehow you broke through. Your image shown brighter than the rest. Your smile guided him back to the office and Hannibal.

In the meanwhile, Hannibal caught the whiff of an excited beta.

“I think I'm through discussing this case---” Will started, making no indication of raising.

“You still have plenty of time,” he interrupted, moving with an intention of getting up at the same time as Will.

“Oh, I'm aware.” He let out a little laugh. “I'm just ready to move on from this week's negativity. I've actually had something positive happen.”

Hannibal settled again. “I see. Has a new dog joined your family?”

Will shook his head. “The new girl, [Name], we've got to talking. She's sweet, very attractive, smart...passionate about her work, but---- I like her. We actually had dinner before I came here tonight.”

There was a slight change in Hannibal's demeanor somehow. Maybe his eyes focused a little more or his nostrils flared. He could've twitched. Something had changed but it was very difficult to determine what.

“I'd like to see more of her,” Will went on. “She's even interested in learning to fish.”

“And you're interested in teaching her. It could be beneficial to seek more human interaction.”

“I've thought of that.” Will rose from his seat. He slowly walked behind it. “But I've also considered that I'm a danger to myself. What danger might _I_ be if I fall in love? My work follows me home, but not in any kind of the conventional senses of the phrase. My visions and dreams would either chase her away or I'd be so lost that I'd---hurt her.”

Will with eyes full of fear, hurt, and confusion looked towards Hannibal waiting for the carefully chosen, wise words that also seem to just fall from those lips. For once, there was a hesitation.

Finally, the lips moved, “Jack sends you to me to make sure those possibilities do not happen. We are to work together to keep you from taking on a personality that isn't yours. If you feel it isn't safe to love yet, it may be wise to withstand from it until we are sure you aren't slipping.”

Begrudgingly, Will nodded. Their appointment finished out in talks of philosophy and other discussions. Later, Will couldn't recall exactly how the time had ended.

 

You went to bed knowing that night you'd go into heat. During the day you could go about your business normally; a couple spritzes of your scent hiders would be the most inconvenienced you'd be. At night it could get bad, especially if you'd catch a whiff of Hannibal's scent, so you'd throw your lock just in case. The outside lock on your door hadn't been used since you were a kid.

You woke up in the middle of the night, which wasn't always unusual, but the throbbing feeling down in your clit and lips and the need for fulfillment was the most intense you'd felt in a long while. You panted and sweated as the night went on and sleep escaped you.

Finally, unable to resist anymore, you dove under your bed for a plastic container. Inside, not only was there the dildo that Hannibal had given you for your first heat, but there was a bigger one with a knot you had purchased when you were older and some toy cleaner. You felt your underwear get wet as you stared at the disembodied dick. Just spraying it and cleaning it with the cleaner and a cloth got you more excited.

In a flash you stripped out of your night clothes and laid on the bed. You slowly slid the toy inside you, finding the slight temp difference enjoyable. At first, you let it go in so far, teasing yourself and encouraging your body to produce more lubrication. The wetter you felt the deeper you pushed it in until the knot was hitting your g-spot.

In and out, your dildo would go, eventually you felt yourself dripping. You closed your eyes as you moved your hips just right so it was just barely hitting your clit. Suddenly, you visioned Will was on top of you and that the silicone penis was his. The memory of his scent filled your nose. His hand, in reality yours, fiddled with your breast. At first, kneading it, then circling your nipple, finishing off with a pinch deliciously complimenting the smooth movements of his dick.

Your stomach tightened. You were near climax. Your fantasy lover kissed you deeply several times before pulling back allowing his gorgeous blues to almost make love themselves with your [colored] eyes. You sped up the movements of the dildo as you brought your fingers up to where your neck and shoulders meet. Your nails teased the spot before you dug them in while imaging Will biting you for your bond. A couple more thrusts and your muscles spasmed into the most drawn out, consuming orgasm you'd ever brought out of yourself all while imaging Will's seed spraying into your body as he grunted and moaned by your ear. It was a miracle you didn't call out as you came.

You opened your eyes, hoping to end the fantasy, but you imaged that he was right next you, cuddling you, tending to the wound he'd made before nuzzling you. Oh, the wound. You had managed to dig your nails in deep enough to draw blood. Oops. The best you could do would be to stick a bandage on it, alter the story that you'd scratched yourself in your sleep, and hope nobody thought any different. You pulled the sex toy out of you and made your way to get cleaned up, including spraying your room with airfresher.

You had no problems falling asleep. But while you were lost in your relief your scent how drifted out of your room grabbing the attention of the alpha. He latched the lock outside your room without your knowing, with full intent to unlock it before you awoke.

Hannibal went to his room, thankful that your scent wasn't strong enough to cause the uncontrollable need to masturbate. He was able to hold that feeling off.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You go through a little Will withdrawal before the mummy case is blown wide up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put way too much thought in the investigating portion and nearly gave myself a headach

No new evidence was coming to light from the mummies; Jack gave you a new assignment while he and Will worked on a different one. You were bummed that you would no longer be working with Will, at least for the time being, but this was part of the job. And that job was to search for a connection, Jack was sure existed, in regards to a string of murders. The notes from previous investigating didn't help much. They worked different jobs at different places; had different hair color, length, style; heights weren't the same; complexions. Papers and second hand accounts weren't yielding anything; you needed to see the bodies for yourself.

You gathered up your folders and journeyed to the lab.

Once there, you saw the team hard at work doing what they do best. You stood in the doorway for a bit just admiring the flow and grace of their teamwork. It was no wonder Jack spoke so highly of them.

You walked in which grabbed Zeller's attention.

“Hey, [Last Name], what brings you to the land of the dead?” he asked you, as he leaned against one of their stations.

“Hopefully not zombies.” You smiled as everyone chortled. You laid the folders down on the table. As Beverly flipped through them, you continued. “Jack wants me to find the connection but these notes aren't doing it for me. Is there any way I can see the bodies?”

“Yeah, sure,” Beverly chimed as she motioned with the folders for you to follow her. You gave a quick wave to the guys.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Zeller give Price a look as he mouthed 'oh, I like her'. Both men grinned ear to ear.

Beverly took you to the morgue. Once she verified who was where she began to pull out the cadavers.

While she did she asked, “You working alone on this one?”

“Yep. Jack has Will doing something else.” A touch of disappointment laced your words.

“Bummer.” And another drawer was opened. “And you miss him already.”

You looked up at her in surprise. She pulled out the last drawer and faced you, mischief written all over her face.

“I caught the way you look at him. Plus your scent. You're really into him.”

“Damn, I didn't know I was that obvious.”

She crossed her arms. “Some feelings you just can't hide. Course you miss him too much, you know you can always call him.”

“I might be tempted, but---I really don't know if he feels _that_ strongly about _me.”_

“He'd be really crazy if he didn't. Besides, it never hurts to go for it.”

“True. I'm also a bit of a sucker for tradition.”

“This is the 21st century. If you're interested in him, you want him, make the moves. There's nothing wrong with that.”

Beverly made her way to leave you with your work.

“Thanks, Bev.” You said to her.

The bodies barely told you anything. In all honestly you doubted that there was any kind of connection between all of them at all, until you noticed that two of the bodies had bumps on the index finger side of their left middle fingers. A bump consistent with prolong holding of a pen or pencil. They were left handed. You remembered there was a handwritten note from one of the other victims and sure enough the structure was that from a left handed person. It wasn't much but it was something. You rushed to tell Jack your theory and then you'd have to play the waiting game.

On your way to grab your purse so you could head out to lunch you heard people gossiping. That was nothing new and usually you didn't care what was being said, but you started to when you heard someone mention Will and how he had had some kind of episode while out with Jack.

You were upset that you'd have to have lunch by yourself. However, worry overtook it. What kind of episode did he have? Was he ok? Did he have to go to the hospital? Suppose you could've called, but what if he was supposed to rest; no one can rest with a phone ringing off the hook. Maybe you could stop by to see if he's doing alright—wait, you had no clue where he lived.

You ate your lunch alone, idly stirring your iced tea with your straw. You kept thinking that at any minute Will would walk through the door and sit down with you, explaining what happened and that he'd be fine. You knew it was highly unlikely and repeatedly reminded yourself that (even though your heart still stopped when the little cafe bell rang). You begged for good vibes for him as you took another unenthusiastic bite out of your meal.

 

Hannibal arrived home after his last appointment and immediately checked to see if you had done the preparations for the night's dinner as instructed. Satisfied with you had done, he did the finishing touches, and got the meal cooking. As his ritual, when you weren't already in the kitchen or dining room, he went looking for you to exchange stories of the day.

First he checked the living room only to find it empty. Then he went upstairs and lightly knocked on your bedroom door. When there was no answer he opened the door to find that the room was unoccupied as well. Since there was no note; living room, dining room, kitchen, and bedroom were all empty there was one last place to check before he'd start screaming your name while opening all the other doors (something learned at a young age when he was an uniformed player in a game of hide and seek): the library.

Located on the quietest side of the house was a decent sized room that held many books both fiction and non-fiction, all from different times and places. The lighting wasn't bright nor was it too dim. The windows had sheer curtains that would allow natural light in but not enough to do any damage to the books. A lovely loveseat had its back to the windows. And the color scheme was calming and beautiful. The only thing out of place was your purple bean bag chair in the corner. Surprisingly, Hannibal had no issues with it being in there. It was the perfect room for meditating.

Sure enough, that is where he found you. You were sitting cross legged, back straight, hands resting on your thighs, palms up, in the middle of the room. A relaxing sounds of nature disc played at a very low volume in the background. Your eyes were closed, but you could feel your guardian's presence.

He took off his jacket and joined you on the floor. He took a deep breath and straightened himself, closing his eyes as well. Behind your eyelids the picture formed and you grinned at what a lovely picture it was. After a minute or so the silence was broken.

“Is there something bothering you?” You heard him say.

You breathed deeply. “What makes you say that?”

Like you could fool him and he smiled at your antics. “Typically, when I find you meditating, something is buzzing in your head like a fly unable to pass the force field that is between him and the outside. Allow me to open the window; what is troubling you?”

“I know. Discussing things with someone can help just as much as attempting to discuss them amongst your subconscious.” You opened your one eye to look at him. “We're taking a break from the mummies and working on other cases. I'm on one case and Will's on another. Not only do I miss him, but there are rumors that he had some kind of episode. I'm worried about him.”

“I see. The other night wasn't just a dinner between friends, was it?”

“Nope. Well, at least, it started with full intention to be so.”

“Are you sure your feelings aren't simply hormone driven? Hormones do what biology has set them up to do: to ensure our species will produce a next generation, but humans have evolved an added need to make sure our potential mates will provide more than suitable offspring.”

“I'm aware and I'm sure.” You felt his eyes on you and you opened yours, only to stare at the couch. “I'm in love with Will.”

Hannibal shifted, his hands now on his legs. He seemed to be choosing his next words very carefully. “I can't say I approve. If he has episodes, I must warn you, you may get hurt.”

You chuckled. “Well, they are just rumors. Phbtt...I don't even know what they'd feel constitutes for an episode. He could've just cried over the bodies for all I know. And as far as approval: I appreciate your concern, I really do, but _I am_ an adult. I don't need your approval. I feel Will might be worth it.”

Your position was no long comfortable so you reclined back, waiting for the inevitable response. Whenever you reminded him of your free will, it always struck a nerve.

He glanced back at you. “You're correct. You are an adult, capable of dealing with the consequences of your actions. I have no control over you. But that will not stop me from voicing any of my concerns for your well being. I advise you to not pursue a romantic relationship with Will Graham.”

You both fell into an uneasy silence, the nature CD still playing in the background. You were offended by what he had said. Meanwhile, Hannibal was angered by your defiance.

Eventually....

“We must go downstairs for dinner,” he began. “After we eat, I'll be leaving you home alone tonight. I'm afraid I've left some unfinished paperwork back at the office.”

“Oh.” You paused. “Is it alright if I go shopping? I noticed groceries are getting low.”

“No. I noticed too. I'm planning on getting some in the morning.”

“Cool.”

 

During your two days off, you tried your hardest to keep distracted. It wasn't healthy to constantly think about Will and you just couldn't bring yourself to call or text him. But it was just as hard to find ways to stay focused. You only read one sentence then spaced off when you opened your novel. Frustrated, you grabbed a non-fiction book to study, which was satisfying until you realized that Ancient Egypt was the topic. Not even shopping, walking, or cooking (resulting in a number of sweets) helped either.

You paced the house for the umpteenth time while eating another scone. Your gaze kept falling on the clean canvases in one of the rooms. Maybe, that's what you could do; you could paint.

You set up your easel and began to let the pencil wander. You were just about ready to begin painting when you heard Hannibal come home. Per his routine, he went straight to the kitchen. He was pretty shocked by the bakery makeover that seemed to have taken place while he was gone. Though, he knew it was a sign you were going stir crazy.

He didn't come to your room until dinner was ready. Waiting for you on the table was your favorite meal. You caught his eye and you exchanged smiles.

You went back to your painting after you ate and helped clean up and you finished out your time off doing nothing but that painting. Before you went to bed, Hannibal asked you what you had painted. All you told him was it was something that made you happy. You felt it wasn't worth being completely honest that it was a smiling Will Graham.

 

When you finally went back to work, once again a note was on your locker. There were developments in the mummy case. You had to hold yourself back from sprinting to the lab. All heads turned to you when you walked in. Your heart jumped at the sight of Will.

“Got the note. What have we got?” you breathlessly said.

“Two of the dentists finally got a hold of us,” Beverly explained.

“Apparently, nobody at either office bothers to check the fax machine,” Price added.

Before anyone else could continue, Zeller pushed on, “We got lucky. Two were from one; one from the other. We ran the names through the missing persons database and discovered two of them were reported missing by their families from the same hospital. The third, was taken from a morgue at a different hospital. First two taken in the same week; the third was from a month before.”

“We've already requested videos from security,” Jack butted in. “We have to wait for one of the other guys to bring it in.”

Your mind raced. “What about the other four bodies?”

“Just one DNA hit so far.” Beverly again. “Reported from a third hospital. Since four for four were missing from hospitals, we've contacted all the hospitals in the city to see if they can provide DNA, given that the bodies are too decomped to compare to any missing persons reports.”

Price: “Speaking of which and here's the kicker: the dates they were reported; it's has only been two months for one and five weeks for the others. We knew the decomp was advanced but this is way too much for five weeks, even two months. Being buried in playground sand and left in the sun it wouldn't speed it up that much.”

You processed the new information. “It's said that the mummification process took 70 days to dry out. And that's in desert sun and heat. For just a little over a month, there'd have to be a constant heat source; no sun up/sun down; no extreme heat/extreme cold.”

“A typical in home UV light for house plants wouldn't be strong enough,” Will thought out loud.

At the same time, the same thought hit both you and him and you turned to look at each other in amazement.

“Tanning beds,” you both gasped.

“Fits anywhere-,” you started.

Seamlessly, Will threw in, “Warm enough-”

“Easy to control to run constantly-”

“Fits a body-”

“Easy to obtain,” you finished. “Damn, that's clever. Highly morbid, but clever.”

Will stood admiring how nicely you two flowed.

You were interrupted by Jack clearing his throat. “Any ideas on how to stop him?”

“Wait. How do we know we're looking for a _he_?” You had your hand on your hip but quickly retreated when Jack gave you a stern look. You cleared your throat. “They only thing I can think of is to set up at the hospitals that haven't been hit yet. Obviously, something spooked them at the first hospital/second body.”

“That'll require too much man power. We need something more definite. Let's go.”

You bid your thanks to the lab team as Jack grabbed the folders and led you and Will to a meeting room. Right away you found a city map and hung it on the bulletin board. Then you circled all the hospitals. Will walked up beside you holding the new information.

“They've already hit here, here, and here.” He place a red tack at each location as he narrated.

“Wait, look,” you said softly. “They're moving up this direction.”

“If we assume that's what they're doing and factor in the remaining three-”

“Looks like that'll be the next one, if they haven't hit it already.”

From behind you, Jack's phone rang, he answered, listened, and the call ended.

“We've got the surveillance footage,” he announced. “Plus a bonus. After they contacted all the hospitals, the one you just fingered as the next one just had somebody go missing. They checked their tapes and said there's something we gotta see. Our guy made an extra stop and is bringing us that one too. I'm going to go meet him in the parking lot. You guys wait for me in my office.”

You and Will were finally alone as you made your way to the boss's office. You gazed at him smiling as he did the same at you. He seemed really tired, maybe even sick, making you question again what kind of episode he had the other day and whether he'd be alright.

“I missed you,” you confessed. Your face started to feel warm.

His smile grew bigger. “I'll be honest that I've thought of you a lot of these past few days.”

“I don't know what it is about you, but I—I--”

You reached the office. Will held the door open for you. “You don't have to say it; I understand.”

You stood in the middle of the room facing each other. You wanted to hug or nuzzle him, breathe him in deeply; show him some kind of affection. The worry of Jack coming back or it being ill received scared you out of it. But it didn't Will. He gently took your hand in his, his other one caressed your face. You leaned into it slightly. He stared deep into your eyes as he moved a little closer.

“I feel the same way,” he nearly whispered.

He seemed just about ready to kiss you, when Jack came through the door holding three DVD's. The lovey moment ended as fast as it began. Your heart sank.

Jack either didn't notice or just ignored what was about to happen in his work space. He set up his TV/DVD player and put in the one from the most recent abduction. The time stamp was from yesterday and after nearly an hour of nothing something happened. You watched as one figure paced around the wing. Carrying a duffel bag. In time, the figure went into one of the rooms and stayed in said room for 45 minutes. When they came back out the duffel bag looked fuller and there was something on there head.

“Oh my God,” you gasped taking the remote from Jack. You rewound a little then paused to double check what you saw. You knew that mask. “They're dressed like Anubis.”

Will was astonished. “Aren't they supposed to do that during the actual mummification?”

“Typically, yes, but I suppose we can argue that this is the first step in their process.”

“And the body is carried out in the duffel bag,” Jack observed.

“Must be a strong person.”

Jack shut off the DVD. “We know we're looking for Anubis. It's clear he's sticking to hospitals. He'll get someone else soon. Are you two sure about the pattern and which one will be hit next?” There was a nod from each of you. “We're setting up a sting.”

Quickly you said, “I'd like to be a part of it.”

“Same here,” Will volunteered just as quick.

“Very well then. Let's go.”

 

In the evening hours, you sent a text to Hannibal, simply saying 'cant make it home.Work related.Wish me luck.luv u <3'. Dressed in normal wear but layered with Kevlar and armed with your gun, you were stationed on the third floor. You and a couple other officers were supposed to wonder around like one of the civilians but still keep an eye out for anyone carrying a duffel bag. Will was on the second floor, Jack on ground, and other officers on the rest of the floors. As soon as you saw someone suspicious you were to radio the others.

All was quiet and calm, well, enough as a hospital can be for quite a while. You started to fear that you and Will had been wrong about which hospital was the next target. You'd never be able to forgive yourself if someone died because you had made a mistake. Somewhat thankfully, Jack spoke over the radio.

“A man just walked in with a duffel bag,” he spoke in a hushed tone. “Taking the elevator going up.”

You stayed out of sight, but eye still on the target waiting for the lift to stop. After a minute Will announced not his floor. Your chest felt a little painful as the number changed to yours then to the next.

“Passed mine,” you updated.

The one above had also been passed, but the next one said he had gotten off on his floor. You held your breath as you waited for gun shots, screaming, the announcement he was in custody, or something to come over the radio.

But---

“False alarm,” you heard. “He was just bringing stuff from home for his buddy.”

'Dammit,' you thought.

Another eternity of pacing passed before Jack came on the radio again; big guy, duffel bag, going up. You took your position and waited. Like last time, Will's floor was passed over, but unlike last time, the doors opened on yours. Sure enough, out stepped the suspect. You let everyone know that this could be it. At a safe distance you followed him to a room. The other officers were right with you. Guns at the ready, you peeked around the corner and saw him take the Anubis mask out of his bag and placed it over his head.

“It's him. I repeat it's him,” you shouted over the radio. The other officers walked into the room. You stood in the doorway. “Don't move!”

The man stood at the foot of the dying woman's bed. He turned slowly and in the blink of an eye he threw a knife at the officer to your right, piercing his hand. You and the other officer fired the guns; his missed, yours hit his leg. The man could move fast and must have had a high tolerance for pain. Just as quick with the knife, a smoke bomb was thrown. It hit the officer in the face. You backed out of the room and took cover off to the side.

Both officers were thrown from the room and hit the floor hard. You turned to face the enemy only to meet up with the back of his hand. You stumbled back surprised and felt a split in your lip. You regained yourself and held up your gun to shoot him in one or both knees, but he slapped the gun from your hand. You put up your fists in a hand to hand combat stance. You could fight hand to hand, but never anyone this much bigger than you and feared you couldn't stand up to him but you had to try. Before it got ugly though, you heard a gunshot. Blood spattered from the entry wound in the back of his leg.

Anubis turned and you saw Jack and Will standing down the hall holding up their guns. Will fired again and again and managed to bring the perp down. You handcuffed and unmasked him. Help came for the two wounded officers and the killer would be treated then processed. Jack congratulated you and Will for a job well done. He left to deal with the next steps.

You looked at Will and he looked back at you. Without warning, he pushed you against the wall and kissed you passionately. His whole body was against yours. You kissed back like you needed him more than air. Your hands entangled in his hair. When the kiss broke you stood in each others arms breathless. You took turns giving light pecks on the lips. You both smiled knowing that the relationship had taken the next step. And it was a mutual and wonderful thing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no clue if the tanning bed thing would actually work or how well it would work. That's not really something that is easily asked or looked up. I know a website said in standard decomp the body starts to dry up within 20-50 days; I mentioned the 70 days in the actual process. I'm hoping my logic at least made sense.
> 
> I actually planned for this to be a little be more drawn out, but I worried it would get too long or too boring or too complicated, so I skipped a couple ideas.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Will are officially a couple, but it causes some troubles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a long time since I updated and I know I said I'd try to be better about it, but then I got sick. Long story short, it started with a virus and then something else was exposed. I've had testing done and put on medications (most not helping, but this new one is). Here's hoping my Dr. tells me it isn't too serious at my next appointment. With whatever is wrong with me I have good days and bad days. And either way, I'd have no interest in my computer or the internet so writing got put back. Now, after spending some time last replying to comments I figured now was a good time to see if my motivation has returned any. Good news! Not only did I have quite a bit done for the next parts, but I was able to finish what I had started that leads up to the climax I had ready months ago and I'm able to publish two chapters for you today. Here's hoping I stay in this kind of mood.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, commenting, kudosing, bookmarking, and being patient ♥

Some time passed after the capture of mummy-maker and so many honest to God dates later, you were up in your room prepping yourself. Your shirt was just over your head when you heard Hannibal's gentle knock on the door.

“Come in,” you said.

Instantly, he opened the door and kept to the doorway.

“[Name],” he began. “We haven't been spending much time together recently and I wanted to make up for that. I cleared my schedule for today and you can not only pick what you'd like for dinner, but also the entertainment after. Anything at all; even that gruesome looking movie they feel the need to advertise on the websites I visit.”

It was a rare offer and any other time you'd be jumping on the opportunity and it was heartbreaking to tell him 'no'. Especially, with the fatherly, hopeful look in his eyes. But Will invited you out first.

“I'm so sorry, Hannibal, I already have plans tonight. I'll make it up to you some other time. Whenever you want, just let me know.”

You faced him, waiting for a reaction. Ever so slightly, you watched the red flash in his eyes. You'd seen it before and usually the arguments between you two were practically nothing, even more so since you hit adulthood. This time, for some reason, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“Is it safe to assume that you have a date with Will tonight?”

“Yes.” You stared at the floor sheepishly. “I know how you feel about me being with Will, but I really enjoy being with him. And he needs somebody. I think I can help him. If not, then that would be my mistake to bear, wouldn't it?”

“I suppose,” he grumbled with just a hint of defeat hanging in the last syllable. You stood looking at each other in almost a challenge. Then, he inhaled deeply. “You're near heat.”

Were you? You hadn't thought about it. A glance at the calendar told you he was right.

He still had that expression that made you uneasy. “I strongly suggest you break your date with Will, [Name]. I'd hate for you to do something you'd regret because your hormones--”

You gathered up some strength for the interruption you needed to make. “I'm not breaking off my date.”

“But if instincts take control--”

“I am well aware of what my body and instincts are capable of. It's my body, my decisions, and my responsibility to deal with the consequences. I'm not a kid anymore; I—am—an--adult! I always appreciate your concerns, but you can't control me or keep me locked up. I have to be my own person.”

“That may be, but you are still my charge. Your home is still here, under my rule.”

Your brain struggled to process what was being said to you. You were dumbfounded at he pulled the typical 'my house my rules' with you. He was a psychiatrist after all; he knew damn well how an adult reacts to it. You wondered what his problem with Will even was. He worked for the FBI, how bad could he be?

You looked at the clock and noticed it was time to get going. “I promised Will I'd see him and that's what I intend on doing. I'll see you later.”

You tried to push past Hannibal as you left your room, but the moment your arm touched him he grabbed a hold of you.

“[Name], you do not speak to me in that way,” he growled.

The more you struggled, the tighter the grip became. “Ow. You're hurting me!”

“You will do as I say. It's for your own good.”

Your struggling eventually paid off and you were able to slip out of his grip, but he had held you so tight that his nails managed to dig into your arm causing scratches when you pulled away. You took a few steps away from him before looking at the damage. You looked back at him stunned. In the entire time you lived with him you were certain that there was never any incident where he was this angry. It was almost like you were staring at a completely different person.

Neither of you said a word as you turned to leave.

 

For your date, Will cashed in that promised fishing/cooking lesson exchange. You impressed him by how easily you picked it up. A good majority of the time was spent laughing at the little mishaps that happened, including: you slipping in the mud, Will getting smacked by a fish, and the accidental capture of trash. Every so often you'd catch Will staring off into space, looking scared. You'd bring him back when you nuzzled his arm and ask if everything was ok. He'd tell you 'yes' and give a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

You brought home eight good sized fish total. Cleaning them wasn't fun, but cooking them was. You talked Will into a baked breaded style, with a wonderful combination of herbs and spices that Hannibal had taught you.

As it cooked, you played with the dogs. You had the little one named Buster running circles around you and the fluffy pooch called Winston. Will sat on the porch watching his pack and you roll around on the ground and throwing various sticks and toys. He loved how you were laughing to the point of crying. He couldn't remember the last time his heart had ever felt that warm.

The meal turned out fantastic and it certainly was a hit with him. And after dessert, after cleaning up you sat on his front porch step, looking up at the stars. Living in the city, you were unable to see them like you could in the rural area. It was amazing and truly beautiful. Shortly, Will came out with a blanket to join you. He snuggled up behind you. He rested his chin on your shoulder and wrapped his blanket covered arms around you.

“It's a little chilly tonight,” you heard him say quietly by you ear. “I didn't want you to get too cold.”

You placed your hands over his. “Thank you. It's nice to know you're still looking out for me.”

He shifted; his curls tickled your cheek slightly. “As long as you're with me, I'm going to be looking out for you. The last thing I want to see is you getting hurt.”

“I worry about you too. Have you been getting enough sleep?”

“Sleeping has been---difficult, lately.”

It broke your heart to him say that. You removed your left hand from his arm only to place it on his head at the same time you leaned your head against him.

“Please don't exhaust yourself. And don't let Jack do it either. You have to take care of yourself.”

“I try. Just here recently, it's been pretty rough. But, I've a good psychiatrist that's helping me. I'll be fine.” He moved again to give a tender kiss to your cheek. “I will be. OK?”

You nodded.

For a little while, you and him sat on the porch, in each others arms, kissing passionately. When you calmed down, you went back to looking up at the stars and watching the dogs. Being wrapped in Will's warmth made the night all the more peaceful and perfect.

You looked at your watch and noticed the time.

“It's starting to get late; I need to get going,” you announced.

“Oh,” Will grinned. “You could always stay the night here.”

His antics were cute. “No. No, I need to get home. There's work tomorrow, and not only that, but Hannibal gets furious if I get home late. He's---there's a whole list of reasons he gives. I really need find my own place.”

“I'm sorry.” He looked confused. “Did you just say Hannibal?”

“Yeah. Hannibal Lecter: he took me in after my parents died.”

“And he's also my psychiatrist.”

“I just thought he knew you through the FBI---”

“That too.”

As you both giggled, it crossed your mind that if Hannibal was Will's psychiatrist and he didn't want you anywhere this man, then that may mean that he knew something and was unable to warn you about Will. But you considered the line of work the two of you were in and could see honest, innocent reasons for need help. Regardless, you were sure you had spent enough time with Will outside work that you'd be able to sense if he was dangerous and you got no bad vibes from him. You felt that strong attraction, but no bad vibes.

Will snapped you out of your inner turmoil by asking if you were ok.

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah. I was just reflecting on what happened with Hannibal earlier.”

“Which was, if you don't mind me asking.”

You told him how you and Hannibal argued over you dating Will and not just that day but the other times too. You told him about how he grabbed your arm and scratched you in the process and how he had never nor did you ever expect him to get as angry as he did. And you admitted to being highly insulted and down right terrified.

“My guess,” he started, sounding perplexed. “is that he doesn't like the idea of his pretty much daughter going out with someone who needs psychiatric help, let alone someone he's treating personally and would know about better than you or even themselves. It may not help that we work together, which has been know to cause tension.

“He's just trying to protect you, that's understandable, but how he went about it was wrong.” He paused, obviously thinking about what he wanted to say next. “This may be sudden, but you are more than welcome to move in here. I do have the room.”

You gasped, “Do you mean it?”

He nodded.

You didn't care if the relationship was still young. You procrastinated finding an apartment and look what happened. It was time to leave Hannibal. Ditch the rules and being treated like you were still the seven year old he took in and live on your own, so to speak. And there was no way in hell he was going to stop you.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal discovers you in the middle of packing and things blow up way more than you could ever imagine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED:  
>  THIS CHAPTER DEPICTS THE NON CONSENSUAL BIT STATED SINCE THE BEGINNING**  
> If at any point while you're reading this you feel uncomfortable, by all means stop. I don't want anyone hurting themselves

You hadn't said much to Hannibal or spent much time with him after the fight. How could you? He had no right to treat you like you were a kid. You were an adult. If you chose to mate with Will that night that was your business not his. And it would never be once you were out of that house.

You wanted to avoid another confrontation so when you were not working you began the process while Hannibal was busy with work. You worried about your boxes in a storage room first. They were what was left from your childhood with your parents and you just weren't ready to let them go. And if you were lucky, you'd be thrilled you saved all of it and would be passing it down to your pups. Looking in the boxes to make sure you were grabbing the right ones brought on sad feelings, but not for the expected reason. Your heart ached from having to leave the once loving and wonderful to suddenly toxic household you had grown up in.

With work and Hannibal lurking around the house it took longer than it should've to finally get the last box to Will's and you could finally start packing your room; you'd worry about your other things throughout the house later when it would be in Hannibal's face that you were leaving the nest. The radio was on as evening approached and you were unaware of the time. Unaware that Hannibal had returned home early due to a cancellation and that he was heading up the stairs. He was so light on his feet you didn't hear the footsteps and had no clue of his presence until he knocked on your door. It startled you.

“[Name], we need to talk,” he stated from the other side of the door.

You took a moment to collect yourself and think. Were you ready to talk and possibly forgive his actions? Were you ready to confront this situation and move on from it?

“Can't it wait?” You huffed.

“I'd rather it not.” At least he sounded legitimately hurt. “We have a bit of a crisis and we need to discuss it like adults. There can be no peace between us until we are open about what happened.”

You touched the spot on your arm where the nasty scratch from his own nails once was. You just weren't ready.

“Not now.”

For the first time in years, he opened your door and walked in uninvited. “[Name], please. I---”

As you stared at him offended still bent over the box you were filling with books he stood in the doorway in shock.

With his heart racing, anger rising, and pride bruising he asked, “What are you doing?”

You placed a couple more books into the box and then closed it up.

“Figured it'd be obvious, but I suppose there are a couple possibilities,” showing you were still upset about everything you sassed as you moved the box with the others. “How about you tell me what this looks like.”

He just stood there just inside the room watching you go about what you were doing, trying desperately to keep in control. His chest heaved from the deep breath he took in before he spoke.

“It appears Will has asked you to live with him and you have taken him up on the offer. Am I wrong?”

“No. You're right.”

Again, his chest heaved. “I can't let you do that, [Name].”

“I'm sorry, what?” You couldn't believe what you had just heard. “You _can't_ let me do this or you _don't_ _want_ me to do this?”

His eyes narrowed and the tension in the room rose to uncomfortable levels. The hairs on your body stood up. You were in danger.

“I said 'I can't let you.”

“I can't believe you just said that to me, twice.” You had stopped what you were doing. You faced him standing with your arms folded across you chest. “I am an adult, Hannibal, you just acknowledged it yourself about five minutes ago. I am so sick and tired of you treating me this way! I can move in with anyone I want anytime I want and you can't stop me. You just have to accept that.”

Towards the end of your brief speech your tone went from hurt, offended to understanding and loving. You had no clue how far you had underestimated the situation and much you misinterpreted Hannibal's emotions. And that is always a mistake.

Eerily, he said flatly, “no, I don't.” He stepped closer. “I don't have to accept you being with Will. Or anyone. I don't have to accept that you are leaving me. I won't allow it. Your parents promised you to _me_! You are _mine_!”

Your mind really couldn't process that last sentence. As your jaw dropped, eyes widened the unthinkable broke through the wall of confusion and anger and daze.

“You killed my parents, didn't you?” you said, near whisper. But the tone was not a good representation of all that was stirring in your body. “You killed them so you could have me early. Raise me into the perfect mate. Made sure I was everything you could want. Didn't you!” The 'you' echoed throughout the room, possibly the house.

He shook his head. “No. I had nothing to do with their deaths. Although, as you pointed out, it did bring you to me. As just a family friend I'd only be able to add subtle influences here and there while your parents raised you with some troubling ideals and behaviors. Their deaths gave me the opportunity to raise you--- clear all that out, reach your full potential.”

Tears began to fill your eyes. Everyone you had ever trusted and loved had betrayed you. Everyone except Will that is. With everything crashing down on you, you could no longer bear to be anywhere near your once beloved guardian. All you wanted was to cuddle up with Will and his dogs. The only beings you felt you could trust at that moment.

“Fuck you, Hannibal Lecter,” you hissed as you walked by him on your way out the door.

The forbidden word triggered your downfall. Hannibal rushed up behind you and grabbed your arm with a grip so strong you'd be bruised. You pulled at his fingers trying to free yourself. The action made you face him. He attempted to switch hands so he'd have both your arms in his vice like grip, but he had conditioned your reflexes too well. The moment you were free, just that split second to switch hands, you turned to run. You made it two steps away before he had a hold of your blouse, which slipped off your shoulders giving you a few more seconds, but that's all you had and it was not long enough to escape. He tackled you to the ground.

You kicked and swung your fists, connecting a couple times. You tried to stand up again and he blindly reached out, snagging the locket. After all the piece of jewelry had gone through; all the years you had worn it without taking it off, the chain finally gave out. It fell to the ground and popped open, revealing that you had finally decided to put something inside it. Hannibal picked it up to get a closer look. You froze over the expression he made upon seeing the tiny picture of Will you had decided to keep close to your heart.

“No,” he whispered as he held it at eye level. “This was to label you as _mine_.”

“Shit! It was a fucking collar and tag?”

He suddenly charged at you and grabbed a handful of hair. You clawed, kicked, and tried everything you could think of to get out of his clutch. He was pure possessive at that point. There was nothing you could do. He dragged you by the hair to his room.

He kicked the door shut behind him. You still tried to fight him as he tossed you onto his bed and sat on you. He was apparently ready for this situation and had rigged his bed accordingly. He struggled to handcuff you as you squirmed and continued your attempts to punch, slap, and claw him. His effort paid off: he got your one hand trapped, giving him a tremendous advantage. Your other hand was cuffed easily. With the confrontation dying down in his favor, he leaned over to one of the end tables by the bed and grabbed a ball gag. He forcefully put it on you.

“I know your cycle,” he growled. “You are do to go into heat this next morning. I will be back then.”

You knew what would come in the next few hours. The cuffs rendered your hands powerless and there'd be no way you could fight him off. You began to cry.

 

Hours later, the ill fated heat hit and was at its strongest point for day one. Your genitals felt swollen, damp, and your body ached with the uncontrollable need for touch. You squirmed desperately trying to position yourself for any kind of relief but the cuffs around your wrists wouldn't allow it. Your face became covered in tears over not wanting the heat to come; not wanting it be like this. The room filled with the scent, alerting the rutting alpha.

Hannibal walked through the door and approached the bed. You started breathing heavier. Without saying a word he took in your scent. It pleasingly filled his lungs, plastering his face with an evil grin. He crawled onto the bed and on top of you. He brought his face down just above yours and breathed you in again. Suddenly he ripped your tank top off of you. The pieces of fabric were thrown off to the sides of the bed.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. You worried about what he was planning on doing with it. Thankfully, he did not plan on using it on your skin. He needed you, after all. You felt the cold metal of the blade slide under your bra. A muffled cry escaped you as you felt just a tad bit of pressure as he lifted it up to cut through the middle of the article of clothing. Once finished, he took a swipe at each bra strap and then flung the pieces just like with the tank top.

He climbed off of you to undress. He did so slowly, taking care to drape his clothing over the near by chairs and never taking his eyes off of your tear drenched face. He stood at the foot of the bed for a minute admiring the site of you as if you were his trophy. Your hormone fueled body defiantly reacted to his naked form; your underwear grew damper at the site of his cock.

His hands drifted up your legs and undid the zipper and button to your jeans. His fingers hooked your underwear as well as the waist of your jeans. He slowly pulled both off of you. The muffled noises you made intensified the more naked you felt yourself become. You wanted to kick at him; give him pain at least one more time. But the struggling would only help him undress you quicker. You resisted. Once fully exposed to him, he parted your lips and swiped his tongue over your opening and clit. He needed to taste you.

He crawled back on top of you. You writhed and tried to give a little effort into pushing him away. Then you felt it. You felt---him. You gave another muffled shriek. His swollen knot hit your g-spot with every thrust. He nestled his face in the crook of your neck. He mostly stayed there to enjoy the smell your body emitted but he'd also place soft kisses to that part of your body, bringing out more whimpers and goosebumps.

The only thing you could think to do the less the pain and humility was to think of Will. The cute smile he'd give when playing with his dogs. It was the same smile he'd give you. Those lovely bright eyes glimmering with true happiness and love. You wanted your nose to fill with his delectable scent and you wanted to feel his strong arms around you while you laid on his chest, listening to the pitter patter of his heartbeat; to feel his hands and fingers working through hair in a way that only someone who made his own fishing lures could do. Would you ever have any of that again?

You returned to the cruel, horrid reality when your body shuttered with a distressing orgasm. You heard the sick monster on you chuckle by your ear. You closed your eyes and wished for it all to end.

His breath became labored as he sped up this thrusting. He held your face in his hand as he looked into your pleading eyes. That evil smile returned as he leaned down and kissed your cheek. When he finally climaxed, he bit down on the spot of your neck that he had nuzzled, forcing a bond. You screamed hysterically through the ball gag. You could feel his seed working its way inside you as the knot shrank and his bite intensified, drawing blood. With each aftershock, he'd thrust harder not letting go of the spot on your neck.

Violated and naked, you were left trapped to the bed while Hannibal left not saying a word to clean up and do God only knew what else. This one horrific event was over, but you knew it was just the beginning.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it through: Hannibal doesn't say a word during to make him even creepier  
> I'm not making any promises but since I had ideas involving [You] and Will I wanted to use but didn't, I may do some short stories to make up for it.


End file.
